


5 Times Tim Played Jon and Martin + 1 Time They Played Him

by TheRealAndian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 5+1, 5+1 Things, Archivist Sasha James, Archivist!Sasha, Assistant!Jon, Bad Decisions, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Fluff, Gay Panic, Getting Together, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Matchmaking, Mostly Fluff, Spiders, Tim is matchmaking Jon and Martin and they are Not Thrilled About It, Worms, and they were ROOMMATES, but it ultimately works, gay pining, let Martin pine in peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealAndian/pseuds/TheRealAndian
Summary: In an AU where Sasha is the Archivist, no one gets taken by the Not!Them, and we basically ignore all of canon (except the worms), we find one (1) Timothy Stoker trying to get his idiot gay friends to be a couple. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Tim Stoker & Jonathan Sims, Tim Stoker & Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker & Sasha James
Comments: 43
Kudos: 416





	1. In Which Tim Plays Jon and Martin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _*laughs in more Jonmartin content*_  
>  I live for this stuff, and Tim being a matchmaker was a great idea from one of the writing Discords I'm in. The whole "Tim getting played" part will come after in the next chapter, and Jon and Martin's perspective will also make an appearance in Ch3.
> 
> Stay gay, my gays.

###  **1**

* * *

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood were very clearly useless at noting each others’ feelings. “I’m going to go insane, Sasha!” Tim griped, sloshing his tea onto his knuckles as he gestured wildly to drive home the point. “They’re obviously pining for each other, and it’s so damn _painful_!”

Sasha laughed and threw a roll of paper towels at him from across the breakroom. “Ah yes, of course. Clearly they need someone to point out just how much they’re in love with one another to them.”

Tim rolled his eyes and ripped off a few sheets, leaning down to clean up what’d managed to splash onto the floor. “Maybe they do! I mean, have you _met_ Jon? Guy’s hopelessly repressed.”

“What about Martin?”

“Oh, he’s _clearly_ gay; he’d be into it. He’d probably even thank me.”

“Maybe you should try asking them about it before you go all Matchmaker on them.”

Tim rose from the floor and tossed the towels into the bin. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

He was going to start subtle--maybe amp things up if they continued to be completely clueless. Unfortunately, with the two of them both in the office with him _constantly_ , it was a bit of a chore just to get them alone.

He finally managed to catch Martin on the way out of the Institute one bright Thursday afternoon. After a bit of idle chatter, he dropped the first bomb of many (he assumed). “So, what do you think of Jon?”

Martin jumped. “Sorry, what?”

“Ohhhh you know,” Tim teased. “How’s he rate on a scale of one to ten?”

“I, um- well- th-that’s um...erm...a-a seven? Maybe?”

Tim smirked and threw his arm over Martin’s shoulder. “Really? I’d give him that on a good day, maybe. That attitude of his hurts his score a bit but, well, maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

Martin pushed him off. “Tim! Th-that’s! That’s none of your business!”

“Oh come off it, Martin,” said Tim, lightly punching Martin’s arm. “I’m just kidding around. Besides, it’s _pretty_ obvious you’ve got a thing for him.”

Martin looked at everything but him, fidgeting uncomfortably. “O-oh look! Gotta go...catch my train. L-lovely talking with you!” And then he ran off.

Tim sighed inwardly. This was going to be a lot harder than anticipated. But he supposed if anyone would be up to the task, it’d be him. He headed home and started to extend his plan further.

###  **2  
**

* * *

Jon was much harder to catch alone than anticipated, but Tim was not to be dissuaded. He would just have to try harder.

In the meantime, though, he was certainly enjoying pretending to not watch Martin watch Jon. It was a shame that Martin knew Tim was onto him, now. He used to be much less subtle.

And of course, there was Jon. He was much more subtle than Martin, or really than anyone Tim had ever met. But there was something. Those two had chemistry, and if Tim had to light the match for the, he would.

“Hey Jon,” Sasha called from her office. “Could you do some follow-up on this statement for me, please?”

“Sure,” Jon shrugged, stepping in and grabbing the file off her desk before returning to his own. He didn’t look at it before getting up and heading for the toilets. Tim suddenly had a very clever, but very evil, idea. He’d just been given a statement as well, and he’d been playing on his phone instead of actually looking at it properly. But he knew what it was about.

Tim grinned as he swapped the two statements, then pretended to start working on the new one.

Jon came back a bit later. Martin had snuck a cup of tea onto it while he’d been gone, and Tim very much enjoyed watching Jon’s baffled reaction. The peaceful look on his face when he took a drink of it though was frankly adorable. Martin was going to be a lucky man if Tim had anything to say about it.

“What’s the statement?” he asked, wheeling himself over to Jon’s desk. As if he didn’t know.

Jon seemed to be enamored by the words on the page but...not in a good way. He was... _definitely_ shaking now. Now he was starting to feel a bit guilty.

Everyone knew Jon was terrified of spiders. Maybe he shouldn’t have given Jon one that was quite so vivid and dark. He snuck out to the breakroom and caught Martin sipping another cup of tea. The man must just be made of tea at this point; there was so much tea.

“Heyyyyyy Martin!” he grinned. “How’s it going?”

Martin’s eyes narrowed. “F-fine? Why are you asking like that?”

Tim choked back his guilt. “Just thought I’d give you a neat little opportunity. Jon’s currently panicking over a spider statement. If you take it off his hands, it might help him out.”

“Sasha gave him a spider statement!?” Martin cried, practically slamming the cup of tea onto the counter. “What was she thinking!?”

He ran out of the room before Tim even had a chance to say more.

Yeah, this one had been a bit of a bad idea. But at least Martin would take care of Jon. Plus, this would at least push them a bit closer.

He hadn’t expected the worms that followed, nor the terrifying trip to the hospital. He definitely regretted swapping those statements; if it hadn’t been for him, Martin wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

He elected not to tell anyone. The look Sasha gave him later that week, though, told him that she knew all of it. If he was going to get his friends together, then he was going to have to never do anything dangerous like that again.

At least Martin was alive. That was what mattered.

###  **3**

* * *

“Hey, Jon,” Tim called, running to catch up with him. The nurses had just cleared him after cleaning out the nasty wound he’d sustained during Jane Prentiss’s attack on the Institute. Tim was just glad that the whole deal with the worms was finally over.

“Ah,” Jon replied, “Tim.” He looked pale, limping a bit on his bandaged leg.

“You feeling all right?”

Jon grimaced. “Been better.” He paused and seemed to think for a moment. “H-how are you feeling?”

Tim shrugged. “Kind of just glad that no one got half-eaten this time.”

“...I have to agree.”

“Speaking of,” Tim said cautiously, “do you know where Martin went? I didn’t see him get released.”

“I’m erm...fairly certain that he went home.”

“Mmmm. Thought maybe you’d want him nearby.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “What are you implying?”

“It’s obvious you like him,” Tim teased, rolling his eyes. “You should, _y’know_. Get to know him better.”

Jon stopped and glared at him. “My relationships or lack thereof are none of your concern, Tim.”

Tim chuckled. “Funny, Martin said something similar when I mentioned it to him. He said you were a seven.” He grinned. “And he certainly seems like boyfriend material to me. Better make a move before someone else snatches him up.”

Jon didn’t seem to appreciate the wink he received as Tim walked off to go catch a cab back to his flat. Surely this would do some good; maybe it would get his friends together. He’d just have to keep an eye on them and see if anything changed.

###  **4**

* * *

“Knock knock!” Tim called in a singsong voice. “It’s your best friends!”

Sasha giggled beside him. “Come oooooooon, Jon! I’m your boss; you have to be nice to me!”

There was shuffling on the other side of the door. There was...more shuffling than just one person would shuffle.

Jon cracked open the door. “Do you mind?”

Martin’s face appeared above their shorter friend’s. “Seriously. We don’t do parties, you know.”

Tim dropped everything he was holding. “Oh. My. God. Were you two? Were you-?”

“You do realise that I live here,” Martin asked, his face turning red, “right?”

Sasha grinned at Martin and Jon’s clear discomfort. “Well I, for one, had no idea! When did that happen?”

“I thought you two were going to a party tonight.” Jon groaned. His grumpiness seemed to be waning, though.

“We are,” Sasha said, “but we wanted to stop by and bother you. We were actually gonna grab Martin on our way here, but he didn’t answer any texts, and we honestly didn’t know where you’d moved to.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Well, now you know.”

“Can’t we just come in for a bit?” Tim asked. “We brought board games and snacks!”

Jon glanced up at Martin. Martin shrugged. “Your call,” he said.

It was Jon’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ugh. Fine. Just don’t stay all night.” He opened the door and the pair of them stepped aside.

Tim could barely believe they were living together. He’d known that they’d grown much closer since the first worm incident, but he had no idea they were _this_ close. Maybe they were...even closer than they were letting on, Tim wondered with a grin.

The flat didn’t reveal much in the way of how the two lived apart from the blankets thrown over the couch. Did Jon seriously have Martin sleeping on his couch? Regardless, the rest of the place was fairly immaculate. Figures--he’d always taken Jon to be the type who would clean everything relentlessly. Man was so damn stuffy sometimes.

But he would change that if he could. The two men had already taken the first step, after all. He just had to push them a little further.

Sasha set the bagel bites and bag of crisps down on the small kitchen counter. Tim set the a couple board games down on the floor and made himself right at home. A shame there didn’t appear to be any wine out right now; he wouldn’t have let them hear the end of that.

“Seriously, when did you two move in together?” he asked when everyone else joined him on the floor.

Martin suddenly looked _very_ interested in the instructions for Snakes and Ladders. Jon glanced up at him, then sighed. “Back in March after that... _incident_ , I found out Martin was trying to live down in the Archive’s storage closet. I couldn’t very well _leave_ him there, so I talked him into staying here for a while.”

Martin finally looked up from the instructions. His cheeks were a cute rosy colour, and Tim was _definitely_ going to point that out to Jon sometime.“‘A while’ apparently meant ‘you live here now’,” Martin said. “I-it just sort of... _happened_ , I guess.”

Sasha tossed him a game token. “Well I’m glad. I wish you’d have told me you needed somewhere to stay, though. I could’ve helped.”

Jon glanced at Martin. “It’s in the past, now,” he said, with something resembling _tenderness_ in his voice.

Martin muttered an agreement, and all Tim could think of was just how smitten Jon was over the man.

They played around, chatted a bit. Nothing substantial came up again, although if their games were anything to go off of, then Tim was pretty sure that Jon had absolutely no luck whatsoever. Martin kept shooting little glances and Jon when he seemed to think no one was looking. Tim was watching, though, and he was having a blast. He was very glad he didn’t _also_ live with them, though, because he was pretty sure the romantic tension would probably kill him.

It was getting to be around nine when Tim and Sasha packed up their games and headed to the party they’d been looking forward to. They left the snacks, though. Maybe they could result in some heartwarming, casual hand touches or something else silly and cliché. He hoped that, one day, maybe next New Year’s Eve, he could get them to kiss to reign in the new year.

###  **5**

* * *

“You’d better not come out of there until you talk about your feelings!” Tim called, tossing the key into his pocket. He’d been planning this for months. With Sasha acting so distant lately, there was only so much he could do to force Jon and Martin together and get some humour back into his job.

He figured he’d leave them in that storage room for maybe twenty minutes, then come back and peek into the window to see if they were making out yet. If not, he could probably get away with leaving them another ten minutes before Sasha noticed something, or Elias chose to make yet another ill-timed trip to the Archives.

Tim wasn’t worried, though. Jon and Martin had been living together for over a year, now. They were clearly pining for each other. All they needed was a little forced alone time together and a very pushy friend.

When he finally opened the door to let them out, though, they dragged him into the room with them and closed the door. Both of them had their arms crossed, and they didn’t look too pleased.

“You took it too far,” Martin grumbled. “It was funny for awhile, but you took it too far.”

“Seriously? You locked us in a _closet_?” Jon said.

Tim was only a tiny bit worried.

“Look, I figured you needed the push. Besides-”

“Tim,” Jon snarled, cutting him off. “I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but I’m not gay.”

“And,” Martin continued, “I’m in a relationship already.”

Tim was shocked. Completely and utterly. “Wait, you _what_!?”

“It’s _pretty_ self-explanatory,” Martin sighed. “So we’d both really appreciate it if you’d stop.”

He didn’t even have a comeback for this. What the hell did Jon _mean_ he ‘wasn’t gay’? He clearly was! And Martin already in a relationship? There was no way! He was absolutely smitten by Jon! How could he possibly-

Had he really been mistaken? No, no of _course_ not! He _couldn’t_ be-

Oh God, what if he _was_ , though?

“Are you going to stop now?” Jon asked.

He felt like a complete prick all of a sudden. He couldn’t believe he’d misread all the signals so badly. Maybe he had, though. Clearly it was upsetting his friends, though. Yeah, yeah he should stop. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled. “Sorry. I...I thought- well...nevermind.”

Martin’s face softened. “Look, we know you probably didn’t mean anything rude by it. And I know we’re all... _pretty_ stressed right now? We’d just rather this whole... _thing_ , ended.”

“You’ve got my word.”

They both smiled at him. “Good,” Jon purred. “Now we should probably get back to work.”


	2. In Which Tim Gets Played

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to literally everyone who commented on Jon's claim to not being gay. He _is_ bi-ace, sooooooooo.......  
> ;)

Jon and Martin were whispering excitedly when Tim entered the Archives a few months later. He’d very intentionally not done anything to upset them again. He was already responsible for enough; they clearly didn’t want his help in getting together, and apparently had no interest in each other in the first place.

That still felt so wrong. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d been so off on his observations. But he’d let them be for quite a while.

But when they saw him walk into the room, they quickly beckoned him over. Both were grinning like idiots.

“Hey Tim!” Martin called. His eyes shone brightly, like the sky just before sunset. “Have you heard the news yet?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What news?”

The man held up his hand. “I’m getting married!”

Tim had to take a moment for that to sink in. On Martin’s finger was a thin silver ring with a lovely blue stone set in the middle. It took him another moment to remember how to speak. “M- _married_!?”

Martin grinned, practically jumping up and down with sheer joy. “Yes! He proposed last night and I-I’m just! So excited!”

Jon snickered. “He’s been like this all night. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even sleep.”

Tim was dumbfounded. Completely flabbergasted. He could barely believe his ears. Or anything else, for that matter. “But you haven’t even introduced us to your boyfriend yet!”

“Fiancé,” Sasha winked, coming up to join the little group. And just because you weren’t around doesn’t mean he wasn’t introduced.”

“But I-!”

“You were so set on getting Jon and Martin together that it’s probably for the best.”

She did have a point. But that didn’t mean that he shouldn’t get to meet the guy! “Well I’d better get to meet him soon, then,” he grumbled. “I wanna know what kind of guy he is before I approve of my friend marrying him.”

Martin was still shivering with excitement. “Oh, he’s wonderful.”

Jon chuckled. “Well I would certainly hope so. Now come on; we have work to do.”

* * *

“Come _on_ , Tim,” Sasha urged. “We’re gonna be late!”

Tim rolled his eyes, patting his hair properly into place and hoping his gel would keep it that way. “Might I remind you that we’ve got plenty of time.”

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “You look lovely, now come _on_!”

“All right! All right!” He smoothed his suit jacket down and straightened his tie. Sasha’s bowtie was a bit crooked, so he fixed hers as well. A final check in the mirror, and he supposed he was ready.

They headed to the car. “I still can’t believe it’s been months since the guy proposed, and I never even learned his name.”

Sasha rolled her eyes again and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Well you could’ve asked Martin, but you never did. Doesn’t matter, I guess. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

Now that he thought about it, he supposed he never _had_ asked. “Yeah, guess that was a bit rude of me, huh?”

The engine rumbled and the car began to crawl into the typical London traffic. “We’ve had lots of other things to worry about. Not exactly your fault you weren’t thinking about this.”

“I’m glad they at least decided to go through with it despite...everything.”

Sasha shrugged. “I think that’s part of the reason they’re doing it sooner rather than later. I mean, not sure about you, but if I were about to get married, I’d probably want to get it done _before_ the end of the world.”

“ _Potential_ end of the world,” he reminded her. “Gerry told you it could be stopped.”

“Yes, well...I just hope he was right.”

“...Yeah, me too.”

They weaved between lanes of traffic for almost an hour before they reached the venue: a small park near the Thames. There were flowers and green grass. The air smelled much fresher here.

“So since you know the man our boy’s marrying, you’ve gotta introduce us,” Tim decided as they pulled into the small parking lot.

Sasha didn’t answer. She readjusted her braid in the rearview mirror before stepping out of the car. She looked more excited than when she’d discovered Gertrude’s laptop under the floorboards of her office.

Tim sighed and slipped from the car. The wedding was small--he wasn’t surprised about that. As far as he knew, he, Sasha, and Jon were Martin’s only close friends. Still, it was...odd that he recognised almost everyone as being from work, save for a woman in the back. What about the other man’s family or friends? Was this woman the only one?

He shook his head and followed Sasha. He didn’t see Jon anywhere, which was odd. He’d said he’d be there...

He didn’t have time to think about it much before Martin walked up to the front of the group of them and began speaking. Something about thanking them all for coming, and for being glad that they could be here to support him and his soon-to-be husband’s happy day.

Tim sank into a seat and tried not to think about how out-of-place he felt. Maybe it was because he only knew one of the grooms. A shame he hadn’t really had a chance to meet the guy. Ah well. He supposed it would be fine; even if he didn’t know the other man, he could support Martin.

Someone near the front began playing the classic wedding march on a small, dingy old piano that looked like someone had just rolled it out of storage that day. Tim sat up a little straighter in the uncomfortable metal folding chair and made sure he looked semi-decent. Sasha practically vibrated with anticipation beside him.

Martin walked back onto the impromptu stage, grinning. He had a purple-and-white flower crown stuck on his head now. His face was bright and excited. The epitome of joy himself.

And then his fiancé joined him.

Tim sprung to his feet. “ _What_!?”

Martin broke down laughing, right alongside- alongside _Jon_! Who was also wearing a flower crown! And a very lovely white suit!

All the other attendees stared at him, but he didn’t care.

Martin was marrying _Jon_? And they hadn’t _told him_!?

Sasha was crying with laughter. “Oh my God. Oh my God, this is perfect.”

He turned to her. “You _knew about this_!?”

Jon could barely speak between breaths. “Y-you. You’re the only one. Who didn’t know,” he chortled.

Martin was leaning on Jon for support. “That went so much better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He was speechless--more so than he had been when he’d learned that Martin was engaged. He just...he couldn’t believe that this was happening. He’d tried _so hard_ to get them together. When had it actually happened? How far back did this go?

“B-but-” he spluttered, “you told me you weren’t gay!”

At this, someone in the back practically cackled in delight. “He’s bi!” she cried.

Jon gestured to her. “Take it from Georgie. She’s my ex,” he snickered.

Tim flopped back into his seat, defeated. He was vaguely aware of the rest of the wedding happening around him. There was a small reception. He couldn’t remember eating anything, although plenty of people claimed he’d shoved an entire piece of cake into his mouth on a dare from Sasha.

He needed to know how far back this went. He needed to know how long he’d been blind to this.

It took some attempts, but he finally caught the happy couple alone. “I need an explanation,” he said, still caught up in a daze.

Jon smiled and wiped some frosting off Martin’s--his _husband’s_ \--cheek. “Was wondering when you’d ask,” he mused, absentmindedly licking the frosting from his finger.

Martin grinned at him. “Yup. You’re owed one hell of a story!”

“One, in which, you actually played a rather large role. Thanks for that.”

They led him a bit away from the rest of the reception and sat him down. “Let’s start at the beginning,” Martin said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a conventional 5+1 is it? But I couldn't resist Jon and Martin's perspectives. I love them too much lol.


	3. 5 Stories of Jon and Martin's Relationship (and How They Got Together with Tim's "Help")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somft!? Somft!

### 1

* * *

Martin first realised that he had a crush on Jon the moment he first saw him smile. It’d been a slow-moving day--the rain outside seemed to make everyone feel even more tired than usual. And the statements were bogging all of them down so heavily that it seemed they weren’t getting much of anywhere at all.

Jon had, for once, crept out of his office and slumped down in a chair in the breakroom. He’d apparently brought a salad for lunch, which was pretty surprising considering that Martin pretty much never saw the man eat anything. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Jon was a vampire. That was silly, of course; Jon actually spoke. Well...he _yelled_ , mostly, at least when it was directed toward Martin. Something about him apparently made Jon upset.

But he was going to get on his coworker’s good side. He had too; he couldn’t afford to upset anyone at the office. After all, what would happen if he lost his job and couldn’t care for his mum?

Maybe that was why Martin started a pot of tea. He usually didn’t make any at work, but stress always gave him the urge to make some. Plus, maybe it would help perk everyone else up. So he stood around, very pointedly _not_ looking at Jon and the way he was glaring at his salad like he expected it to suddenly spring to life and his glare would make it wither away.

The kettle whistled, causing both of them to jump. Jon stared at him, less with anger and more with confusion. Had he not noticed that he was standing there? God, this was embarrassing. He gave the man an apologetic smile and turned back to the kettle to get the tea steeping.

Jon stayed silent, but Martin could practically feel his eyes on him. It was a little unnerving, he had to admit. But it was just Jon, nothing to be afraid of. It wasn’t like he was some monster from the statements or whatever. Besides, most of those were very clearly made-up anyway.

It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Jon was staring at him because he was supposed to be working. He glanced behind him, but the man was just...glaring at his salad again. Well, maybe ‘ _glaring_ ’ wasn’t the best word for it, but he was certainly very intently staring at it.

Martin waited for the tea to finish steeping, then poured four mugs. He didn’t exactly know how anyone took theirs, so he just brought along a little bowl of sugar and a cup with cream. He steeled himself, then headed over to Jon, who seemed to just be finishing with his lunch. Getting closer, Martin could see just how tired he looked--as if he hadn’t slept in the past week or so. He hoped he’d be okay. Maybe the tea would help.

“I-I brought you some tea,” he managed to stammer out before Jon’s electric gaze paralysed him. “N-not sure how you um...how you take it, though.”

Jon stared at the small offering for a moment, before gently taking one of the mugs, plopping two cubes of sugar into the drink, and dumping about half the cream into it. Martin managed an awkward smile while his coworker took a cautious sip.

And then he smiled.

Oh, it was _radiant_.

It was small, sure, but just enough to send a flush to Martin’s cheeks. And he was half-sure that Jon blushed a bit as well, although that may have been the heat of the tea or something along those lines.

“It’s ah…,” Jon said, “it’s very good, Martin. Thank you.”

Martin barely managed to stammer out a quick “you’re welcome” before he bolted. Dammit, why did Jon have to be cute?

### 2

* * *

Jon rubbed his face and figured he’d ought to call it a day. It was already far later than he’d intended to stay, especially with Jane Prentiss lurking about. Just the thought of getting caught by her was enough to make him shudder. But he should still be able to catch a train home. As long as he wasn’t suddenly accosted by _worms_ on the way, he should be fine.

But a sound coming from one of the storage rooms made him pause for a moment. It almost sounded like...like a whimper? Did Martin seriously let another dog into the Archives? Maybe he should’ve taken that head archivist role after all for the sole purpose of firing him.

Then again...Martin had been through a lot, lately. And he wasn’t _all_ bad. And he certainly wasn’t suited to the head archivist position, no matter _what_ Elias claimed. He was actually pretty glad he’d turned it down, especially since Sasha was _much_ better suited to it.

He stood quietly in the hall, waiting if the sound came again. At least if it was some animal he could remove it before it wound up soiling the Archives. It only took a moment, but it was very quiet. And certainly not an animal.

Someone was down here with him.

Jon gulped, the sudden reminder of what so many statements, regardless of how ridiculous they were, claimed about monsters in the dark late at night. He really didn’t want to investigate but...he sighed. Someone was down in the Archives, and it was dark. They were probably just afraid because they didn’t know where they were anymore. Although why anyone would willingly come down into this Godforsaken place was beyond him. Then again, _he_ was down there, too, so he really shouldn’t be much of one to judge.

He followed the pathetic sounds right up to a door tucked away in a back corner. Just another storage room--nothing special about it, he didn’t think. The light inside was off, though, even though there was definitely someone in there. Could they seriously not find the lights? Didn’t they have a phone or something?

Cautiously, he creeped the door open and looked inside. Through the dim light filtering in from the Archives, he could see the shape of a man lying on his side curled up into a ball. Every now and again, he would twitch and make that small whimpering sound.

 _He’s asleep,_ Jon realised. But he couldn’t quite make out who it was, nor why they would be sleeping in the _Archives_ of all places. Seriously, this was the creepiest part of the Institute. He’d be better off up near the offices or something.

Jon clutched at something he hadn’t realised he’d picked up. Was that a pipe? For God’s sake, when had he gotten _that_? Whatever, it was something he could defend himself with, should the need arise. He flipped on the light, then stepped back, eyes focused on the figure before him.

It was Martin. It was really just...Martin. And the light hadn’t seemed to wake him at all. Or even cause a stir. He just kept lying there, twitching on the floor like he was trying to reach for something or scratch at an itch.

_Or maybe a worm._

Shit. That made sense. The poor man was probably caught in some horrendous nightmare. A nightmare that, quite frankly, ought to have been _Jon’s_. If it weren’t for Martin taking that Carlos Vittery statement from him, _he_ would’ve been the one to have been trapped that way. To almost die.

God, the stench of worms was starting to come back to him.

He dropped the pipe and stepped into the room. At the very least, he should wake Martin up. Why the hell was he sleeping in the Archives, anyway? Sure, it made sense that he wouldn’t have wanted to return to his flat after everything that had happened, but what about staying with someone else? Surely someone would’ve offered, at the very least. Besides, didn’t he have a mother who was alive? Why didn’t he go stay with her?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting Martin out of his nightmares--a desire Jon remembered all too well. So he gently laid a hand on Martin’s shoulder and shook him a bit. When that didn’t work, he smacked him lightly on the arm and whispered his name. Then he took to shouting, and that seemed to do the trick.

Martin jerked upright, nearly knocking Jon over. To be fair, he was crouched in a pretty terrible position, and his balance was shot as it was. Martin breathed heavily, panicked. His wide eyes seemed to stare past Jon as if he were still seeing all the worms. Jon tried not to focus on the scars while he waved to get Martin’s attention.

“Martin, it’s all right. You were just...just dreaming,” he said. He was...awful at this. He really should’ve just walked away once Martin was awake. But no, that would be rude, and Martin had already been through too much for one person. He’d almost _died_ , and it was Jon’s fault. He at least owed him this. “Just _breathe_ , okay? You-you’re all right. Safe.”

Martin finally managed to focus on him, and he just held a stare that seemed to last for ages. Jon’s hands were waving around wildly, because he had absolutely no idea what he was doing anymore. At least he was trying?

“Just um...just calm down. You’re fine.” He was really just turning into a broken record, wasn’t he?

Eventually, Martin seemed to catch his breath, and he looked away, face flushed. He was shaking. Quite a lot, actually.

“I-I’m okay,” he whispered. He really didn’t sound it. Jon chose to ignore that; it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

“Why are you sleeping down here?”

Martin always seemed to get shy around him. He very pointedly didn’t look at him while he answered; “I...I can’t go back to my flat.”

“But...but what about friends? Family? Can’t you stay with any of them?”

Martin’s eyes were bright blue. He stared at Jon with a sad intensity that made him feel like he was falling. “I’m on my own,” he said.

That didn’t sound right. Sure, he and Martin hadn’t been on the best of terms before this mess happened, but he _must_ have had friends or something! And Jon _distinctly_ remembered hearing Martin talk about his mother! And Martin really was a...fairly nice man. How could he not have friends?

He voiced as much, but stopped short when he noticed Martin staring at the floor. There were...oh God, he’d made Martin cry. Shit.

“Th-there’s nowhere else I can go,” Martin whispered.

Something in Jon’s heart shattered. Maybe it was his stuffy demeanor, because the next thing he knew, he was ushering Martin along, gently guiding him out of the Archives and into the night. He didn’t think, he acted. Martin needed help, and dammit, he owed him this much at the very least.

“I-I’ve got a couch,” he said. Even he was surprised by the sensitivity in his voice. “You can stay with me until you can find a new place.”

Martin pulled away from him. “J-Jon, I can’t just- you don’t even like me!”

Had he really made that impression? Yes, he supposed he had. He would have to rectify that immediately. “Martin, that’s...that’s not true. I just...I’m not good at- at _people_. But you...if you hadn’t taken that case from me, it would’ve been me. This is the _least_ I can do to- to thank you.”

Martin wrung his hands, glanced around nervously at the empty street. “You don’t have to do this,” he muttered flatly.

“I want to.” Did he? He supposed he did. He’d have to...sift through the implications of this later. “I- you- ...we’re friends. At least...at least I _think_ we are. Maybe. Friends help each other.”

Whatever shreds of resolve Martin still had broke. “Okay,” he said. “O-okay.”

Jon gently placed a hand on Martin’s back and started to guide him away from their very cursed workplace toward the nearest station. He felt oddly light. Maybe even happy. He hoped he didn’t regret this.

### 3

* * *

Martin set a mug in front of Jon and smiled nervously. It’d been a very long day, and they were both more than ready to wind down. Martin wasn’t sure if he’d be _able_ to at this point, but he had to at least make an attempt.

Jon took a sip, his face knitted into almost a grimace. Martin couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the tea wrong, but Jon glanced at him and sighed. “Ran into Tim on the way from the hospital,” he said.

“Oh?” Martin replied, sitting beside him. “Did he say anything?”

“He erm...he mentioned that he’d spoken to you before re- regarding myself.”

He fought to keep a slight grin up, but inside his heart was dropping into the grave it belonged in. “Oh.” He hid behind his tea for a moment before building up a bit more courage. “What um...what did he say?”

Jon scratched at the back of his neck absentmindedly, eyes firmly fixed on anything _but_ Martin. “He said that you erm...well, that you might...might b-be _interested_ in me?”

Martin gulped. He was in no way ready for this conversation, especially after everything else the day had thrown at him--what with the worms and all. “Okayyyy...? So um...if that were- were true,” he suggested, trying to keep any and all emotion out of his voice despite feeling like he was about to sob out his heart, “how would you feel about it?”

“I guess…,” Jon started. His hands started to flail as he grasped for words that did not want to come to him. “I-I guess I’d be flattered? I mean, I’m not exactly the _nicest_ person I know, and erm...well...I guess I’d just be a bit surprised a-at the mere possibility of that?”

Jon didn’t hate him. Oh thank God. “So then...how would you-”

“Martin, _please_ tell me straight. D-do you like me in a-a more... _romantic_ sense?”

It was too late to play it off--too late to run away like he so badly wanted to. God, why did Jon’s stare have to be so quiet and gentle and _yearning_? _Was_ he yearning? The last time Martin had even been in a relationship was before he dropped out! A-and his last boyfriend certainly hadn’t looked at him like _this_! Ohgodohgodohgod- “I don’t know!” he blurted.

Jon’s stare seemed to waver a bit as Martin’s hands rushed to cover his mouth. He’d really like a do-over for the day. Maybe a memory wipe. Had the temp gone up in the flat? No, no it was just his face flaming red. His mind became a jumble of incoherent screaming and unspoken words.

He _liked_ Jon. He really did! But what if he was misinterpreting? What if he was just clinging to the one person who had shown him basic human decency? What if, what if, what if?

“All right,” Jon mused, his eyes darting around with uncertainty. “I-I guess that makes sense.”

Martin took a breath and tried to sift through his mind for some semblance of meaningful words. “I um...I don’t know because- well- I know I like you as a _friend_ and m-maybe um...more than that, but I-I don’t _know_ if it’s romantic, i-if that makes any sense?”

“Right…”

“That is to say, well, I just...I don’t really have any romantic experience so um...not really s-sure if that’s what it is?”

Jon steepled his hands over his now-cold tea. “I see.”

Martin wished he could just disappear. It’d be a lot easier than dealing with his messy feelings about Jon.

“I guess that,” Jon said, “I er...I don’t really know either? I find it easier to just... _ignore_ my feelings in general? Well- it’s not _easy_ but it’s...it feels safer.”

Martin let out an exasperated chuckle. “Right?”

“But I also know that...that I _do_ like you, Martin. You- you’re a good friend, and I’m glad that I know you. I just...I’m not sure if my feelings are romantic, either. I don’t really...I’m not on the same wavelength as most people seem to be…”

“Really wish Tim hadn’t done this,” Martin snorted. “Now I just feel like...like everything’s gonna be more awkward.”

Jon giggled, and Martin _really_ wished it wasn’t so adorable. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“We could always just- tell him off?”

“Maybe…”

Martin leaned over a bit to get a better look at Jon’s face. He seemed- well, maybe not _lost_ but certainly...confused? Yeah, confused seemed like the right term. Or maybe contemplative.

“Martin…,” he said, “would...would you like to get breakfast in the morning? T-together?”

Martin’s heart leapt into his throat, and he made a slight squeak that really didn’t sound like it should’ve come out of a human. “A-a-are you asking me on a d-date?”

Jon’s face flushed. “I-it _could_ be? I-I mean...that is, if you _want_ it to be, then erm...yes?”

The two of them stared at each other for a few long seconds before Martin burst into hysteric giggles. He wasn’t sure if he was happy, or terrified, or maybe some strange combination of the two, but he didn’t care--it felt _good_. “Y-yeah. Yeah, we um...we could do that.”

Jon snickered. “Well a-all right, then. Where would you like to go?”

### 4

* * *

They had everything planned out. They would go through half a bottle of cheap wine (maybe more if they were feeling brave), and then go to bed at a decent time like normal people. Neither of them had expected Tim and Sasha to just _appear_ on the doorstep with food and games. Of course, they couldn’t exactly make them _leave_ without Tim getting suggestive about their reasons, so Jon figured they could at least come in for a little while.

A little while turned into three hours of Sasha destroying everyone in Cluedo while Tim crushed them in Monopoly.

Jon took a swig from his wine glass as if it were a large beer like he’d grown accustomed to back in uni. This stuff was a lot sweeter, though, and was much more suited for small sips and savours. Sort of like how Martin was enjoying his own glass. Jon didn’t care much. He wanted alcohol in his system and he wanted it there _now_. He was amazed he’d made it through Tim’s suggestive glances and eyebrow wiggles whenever Martin said _literally anything_ to him.

But Tim and Sasha had finally left to go to their little party, so at least they had that. Peace and quiet. _Finally_.

“D’you think we should’ve _told_ them we’re dating?” Martin asked, looking up from the book Jon was pretty sure he was only _pretending_ to read.

“No.”

Martin smiled at him all sly, and Jon’s heart did a little flip that he very acutely ignored. “Why not?”

“Let them figure it out. Our relationship is none of their business, _especially_ Tim’s.”

Martin wrapped an arm around Jon, and he practically melted into the warmth suddenly encompassing him. It’d taken both of them awhile to get quite comfortable with that, but honestly it was so lovely and comforting and _Martin_ that he adored it.

“One of these days, Tim’s gonna find out, and he’ll completely lose it,” Martin snickered.

“Good,” Jon grinned, “I’ll enjoy it.” Pride swelled inside him. After all, this was _his_. _He_ had this, and no one else. No one could take this away. Maybe he didn’t deserve it, but he’d damned if he didn’t try to deserve it a bit more than the day before.

Martin laid his head on top of Jon’s and sighed. They sat like that for a good while, just listening to each other breathing and enjoying the touch of the man they cared for.

At some point, they must have accidentally fallen asleep, because the next thing Jon knew, there were fireworks going off to the chime of Big Ben. Both of them jumped, laughed it off, and moved over to the window to watch the display.

The billowing colours bursting through the window panes were so mesmerising that it took them to realise _why_ they were happening all of a sudden.

“Oh!” Martin chirped, “Happy New Year, Jon!”

Before Jon could say it, there was a soft, tender pressure on his forehead--Martin, giving him the slightest kiss. They’d never kissed before, despite having been dating for months.

“Oh,” Jon breathed. “Happy New Year, Martin.”

Martin’s arm around him was warm and heavy. The perfect comfort. Jon may not have known how to express his emotions, but at that moment, he knew what he needed to do.

He reached up and hooked his hands under Martin’s collar, pulling him down to a more reasonable height for Jon to kiss him. Martin’s lips smiled beneath his own, and the love he’d been trying to comprehend for months finally made sense.

### 5

* * *

Jon fiddled with the box in his jacket pocket. Nervous energy tapped through his fingers, his feet, the inescapable shiver of terror and joy running through his chest every time he remembered what he was about to do.

He loved Martin. More than he ever would have thought possible, especially given how they’d first interacted. There was nothing Jon could do to fix those first months of his callous prickliness, but he knew that Martin had forgiven him time and time again. Things were not perfect, but they _were_. Because Martin had stolen his heart, and he was pretty sure he’d taken Martin’s.

He _really_ hoped he wasn’t jumping the gun or anything. Especially _now_ , after they’d learned what the true purpose of the Institute was. But Sasha was _more_ than aware of their relationship by now, and Tim was still so _completely_ clueless. As long as Elias didn’t dare to show his face at the wedding, Jon didn’t care. He just wanted to be with Martin for as long as they had left.

And with their line of work, time seemed to be running thin these days.

He opened the door to his- _their_ flat and glanced around. Nothing was different, at least; no evil avatars of fear had decided to just _show up_ and ruin this for him. As long as no weird yellow doors or spiders showed up, he’d be fine.

Also fire. He could do without any of that.

Unless of course there were spiders, in which case the bastards had it coming.

“Martin?” he called. He should be home already, seeing as Jon had stayed later.

Martin’s freckly face peeked out from the bedroom. “Hey,” he smiled. “Welcome home.”

The jitters were getting worse. Aaaaaaand now he was staring.

He forced his legs to move, to do literally _anything_ , and somehow he was now practically being held by Martin, kissing him a lot more passionately than he normally did. A brief thought of the Web manipulating him came to mind, but he pushed it away; this was _him_ and Martin was _everything_.

When he resurfaced for air, Martin stared at him, a somewhat bewildered smile on his face. His cheeks and ears were flushed with red. Jon loved him.

“H- _hi_ ,” Martin stuttered out. “D-did something happen after I left?”

Jon untangled himself from Martin’s arms, despite wanting to bury himself in them while Martin played with his hair or stroked his face. Words were trying to form, but they weren’t doing a very good job of it. Frustrated, he settled for digging the box out of his pocket and pushing it toward Martin.

Martin gingerly took the box from his hand, and opened it to see the ring inside. He stared, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in a swallowed gasp.

“Marry me,” Jon said, his voice weak and shaking.

He prayed he hadn’t misjudged Martin’s own level of affection for him.

The seconds ticked by in tense silence before Martin very gently pulled the ring from the box, staring at it in the soft light of the ceiling lamp. It glinted blue and green, the same colour as Martin’s wondrous eyes that Jon couldn’t help but get lost in.

Martin took in a shaky breath. “O-okay. Y- I-I mean...yes. _Yes_!”

He scooped Jon into a tight squeeze and held him close to his chest. His heart pounded almost as rapidly as Jon’s own. Martin was practically sobbing “yes” over and over, and Jon pressed a feathered kiss onto his jaw (it was the only place he was capable of reaching while clutched in his lover’s arms).

Martin quickly corrected where his lips fell, and they held each other tightly.

They were getting married, dammit. Even if the world burned the next day, they had this.

* * *

The wedding was spectacular, and Martin was the happiest man to have ever lived. Tim’s response had been fantastic, and it was everything he could have dreamed of. Laying in the bed of their flat now, with his new husband snuggled into his arms, Martin breathed a sigh of happiness. Sure, things were a mess, but he had this. They _both_ did.

And that was enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://mslynnwrites.tumblr.com), where I do original writing, too!


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